The Things We Did for Family: Khan
by Almedha
Summary: In the POV of Khan, during the chase scene of Into Darkness. An expansion of my story "The Things We Did for Family."


_I have put this story in its own story because I felt that it detracted from Spock's POV, which was originally what I had wanted to write. They're very different anyway, seeing as "The Things We Did for Family" is a more appropriate title for that story. But since I just moved this chapter, I decided to keep the title. This story wouldn't have existed without that one anyway. _

_The usual disclaimers of not owning any of this and such. Many thanks to zeynel for the suggestion of writing this POV!_

_Take a moment to read and review? __Without further ado, then, onto Mr. Harrison..._

* * *

I ran.

It was my best option at the time, though I'm not accustomed to it. Though I was certain I could have incapacitated you had you caught me, I had no time for you. Racing through the shambles of this once-great city: I found it satisfying. My handiwork and yours together. We destroyed it together. Thank you, for that.

I don't know where I intended to go or how I thought I might escape, so I stop running. Only then did I realize I had lost it all. All I hoped to save was gone and I was the only one left. The only one of a race doomed to anonymity in this galaxy I had only known for a short time. They had not even seen it.

I don't know what it means to feel regret or sorrow. I know what those words mean, but I don't.

How funny; you know exactly what I mean, don't you?

Perhaps I was born to the wrong race. You and I: perhaps we both were. A Vulcan and a Human, so opposite, but not in the way any expected. The last of my kind, though; I don't know if there's anything I can do on my own. I could have ruled the world if only I were not alone. I could have bent an entire federation of planets to my will, but I am alone. Terribly alone, and you don't know what that means.

So I stop to face you.

At first I think how hilarious it is that you think you can stop me. Your strength and intellect are superior to a Human's, but I'm not an ordinary Human. You know that, you know I can and will kill you, and you come for me anyway. Others might call that courage, but I call it stupid. Stupid. Plain.

How… Human.

A moment later, I realize I am no longer merely toying with you, but only trying to hold my own. You come in on the offensive, and I wonder if you might have been expecting to die. I expected you to be subdued easily, too easily. But your onslaught is like… mine.

How… perfect.

I'm not alone after all. I've never seen an angry Vulcan before; and I come to see they might be every bit my equal. You've learned my secret and it's not my genes. It's not my ambition. It's nothing like that. It's my anger. I wonder how powerful Vulcans could be if only they could learn this, too.

I don't often fight for my life. I don't know if I ever have.

And before I know what is happening, even as I try to kill you, I hear words in my head—frantic words not mine that I can't ignore. _My mind to your mind_. I think how I don't want this, but your thoughts still brush mine. Not exactly thoughts… not exactly words. _Emotions_. I didn't know you had. You tell me everything, even those things you don't want me to know.

_They're alive_.

_He's dead_.

_How could that be right?_

_You must die_.

I don't quite know what it is you're telling me, but this can only last so long. A Vulcan educating a Human on pain in the span of a few seconds. Regret. Sorrow. An education in history: that a Vulcan could once kill with a thought. How you wish that you could do that to me. You're finished; your emotions overcome you and I can escape. Perhaps my strength. Your weakness. You don't know how to withstand it.

I run again. Your pain is what I want, my pleasure, so I leave you to it. Confident that I can hold you off should you come again, but I doubt that… I know your pain and it's paralyzing. You are not strong enough. But I realize only a moment later…

Neither am I.

I am caught. Nearly killed. I don't want to give up but I have little choice. I am the last of a great race, the last of my kind, the last and alone. But not so alone? _They're alive_? You did not kill them after all? What a mistake. You realize that, though. And you. You're alive, too. As long as you live—and you will; I can't stop you—you will carry on that thing that makes me… me.


End file.
